A Word of Advice
by kashkow
Summary: Someone stops by to chat with Sam. Dean listens in/ Spoilers for most of the show through 'Party on, Garth'. Rated for language use.


A Word of Advice

Author's note: Nope, just checked and they are still not mine. Major spoilers for Season five episode "I believe the Children Are Our Future.", because I found the idea of Jesse Turner's character very interesting, and saw so many places they could have gone with it, but they just let him go it seems. Also spoilers for most of the other seasons including seven through 'Party on Garth' since Sam is feeling "much better now". (Sorry, it's a Night Court thing that has always stuck in my head.) Anyways, on with the show. This has not been Beta'd so beware the comma monster and weird spellings.

Chapter 1-

Sam Winchester tiredly closed the book he had been looking through and pushed it onto the pile of other books he had already been through. The information he was looking for was proving elusive. Since they no longer had access to Bobby Singer's extensive library of rare books that was becoming a regular problem. Of course they no longer had Bobby either, and didn't that just tear his heart out. With all of the things that had happened in the last few months he was beginning to feel like a ping pong ball in a clothes dryer. The blows just kept coming. Getting his soul back, finding out Cas had betrayed them, losing what small bit of control he had as the 'great wall of Sam' had been brought crashing down, getting some level of control back by wrestling with his alter egos, then having Cas go completely nuts and declare himself the new god, and freeing the leviathan. Then it had just gotten worse. First losing Bobby's place, the only real _house_ that he and Dean had ever been able to call home, finding that the leviathan were practically indestructible, and, in a failed bid to find out what the hell they were up to, losing Bobby.

Sam knew it had hit Dean just as hard, if not worse, though he tried to hide it behind his usual banter and macho stoicism. But Sam had seen the agony in his brother's eyes, the increased drinking, and this new found conviction that Bobby was somehow haunting them. Sam wasn't sure what to think about that. Of course Bobby wasn't haunting _him_, he was haunting DEAN, that is if he was haunting anyone. All of the 'signs' that Dean had pointed out had been there for _him_, not Sam, never for Sam. Not that this was a huge surprise for him. He had done little to endear himself to the man in the last several years. Unleashing the apocalypse, releasing Lucifer, being responsible for him being stuck in a wheel chair (and yes, he was pretty sure that he was at fault there-see the whole starting the apocalypse thing), and then as icing on the cake, when he was Robo-Sam he had tried to kill the man. Not exactly a way to be the favorite. Of course Bobby had always liked Dean better anyway, and _boy_ didn't that sound petty and jealous!

Sam's head dropped, almost banging against the table. He was worried, about Dean, about Castiel, about the leviathan, about the _world_, and he was TIRED of people making sacrifices for _him_. All through his life he had been sacrificed for without him asking for it: His mother had sacrificed her life for him; Jess had been sacrificed to get him back into hunting; Dean had sacrificed his childhood, his life, _an_d his soul; Bobby had almost sacrificed his life; and now Castiel had sacrificed his sanity. And all he seemed able to do was keep taking and taking. He felt as if he was offering almost nothing in this current fight. Dean had been carrying the burden for the last months as Sam's brain had been melting down, sometimes literally, as the hell-memories overcame him. Now he was practically useless as a researcher since he had no reliable sources for any kind of information that might help them figure out ANYTHING. He found himself blinking rapidly as tears filled his eyes. Oh great, now on top of everything else, he was feeling _sorry_ for himself. Well, he _was_ sorry. He was just lucky that Dean had not gotten tired of it all and kicked him to the curb years ago. Maybe after the Ruby fiasco, or the whole Lucifer thing, or let's not forget the soulless thing. Probably if Castiel hadn't gone off the rails and was still around to be Dean's sidekick he would have. Why keep the loser when you can have an 'Angel of the Lord' as your 'Robin'.

Sam suddenly pushed himself to his feet with a huff. Okay, he was comparing his brother to Batman. God, he was being a total ASS about all this. It was NOT all about him. He had to get out of here and out of his own head for a while; even he couldn't stand himself when he was like this. He carried the pile of books over to the re-shelving box and after scooping up his laptop and backpack he walked out of the library. It was late afternoon on a Monday, and they were technically in between hunts. Dean was at one or the other of the local bars, having a drink and eyeing the waitresses. Sam was almost glad that his brother was doing something so normal, even if it did not involve him. They had been a little too much in each others company in the last few weeks, and it was good for them to have a little alone time. At least that was what Sam had hoped. Dean _was_ probably enjoying himself, Sam-not so much. He had decided to do a little more research on their next possible hunt and see if he could find anything more on the leviathan. This small town had limited resources however, and there had been almost nothing on either. To tell the truth, at least to himself, it had really only been a way for Sam to avoid thinking about things.

That avenue obviously being closed he made his way down toward the small park that edged the river that ran through the town center. He found an empty picnic table dappled with shade and sunshine beneath the trees with a good view and sat down. He started to turn on his computer, but decided against it and pushed the machine aside and just sat there looking out at the moving water. It was fall, and the weather had been beautiful the last two days they had been here. He was comfortable in his two layers of shirts and he leaned on his elbows and tried to order his thoughts.

He was very conflicted about what Castiel had done. Yes, the angel had destroyed the wall that had held back the memories of hell, but it was a blow that only hastened what was already happening anyway. The wall had been a stop gap measure, doomed to failure to begin with. Robo-Sam had tried to tell Dean that, and his brother had not listened. Sam could not blame Dean for trying however. He would have done the same if it had been Dean. But now, Castiel had paid an awful price for his "crime", and Sam was not sure that the punishment was fitting. He still had the memories of hell, but they were distant, as if they had happened to someone else. And Lucifer, hallucination or not, was gone. But while the memories did not have the same impact now, he remembered the pain he had felt before, and he could not have wished that on anyone, much less someone he still considered a friend. Castiel had rescued Dean from hell. For that single act, part of the greater plan as it might have been, Sam could forgive the angel anything. There had been no hope for him, Sam, at least not with out divine intervention, literally, and now Castiel was in the same situation. It wasn't as if God was going to reveal himself suddenly with a hearty "surprise, I'm back" and wave his hand and solve everything. They did not have that kind of luck.

He rubbed at his right eye, as a little bit of dust was carried into it by the light wind that was rustling through the trees. Sam looked up at the mostly bare limbs over his head, enjoying the blueness of the sky and the warm glow of the sun. As he looked back down toward the river he almost jumped out of his skin as he realized that someone was sitting at the picnic table across from him, someone that had not been there a moment before, someone he knew.

Chapter 2-

Dean Winchester was not having as much fun as he should have been. He was in a small bar at the edge of the little Podunk town they had been stopped in for the last two days while they waited for a part for the newest piece of junk they were driving. And just who's idea had it been for them to steal a vintage Dodge Dart with a serious head gasket issue? Oh wait, it had been his. That was one of the reasons that they were waiting for a part and not just heisting another piece of crap from someone here in town and heading out. He had made something of a big deal about his knowledge of what was and wasn't a good car. He had been missing his baby so much that he had just stopped himself from heisting the first classic Impala that they had seen, though it had been baby blue. And just who the hell bought a _baby blue_ muscle car anyway? The Dart had been a compromise, something nondescript with its mostly bondo-colored exterior, but with a good solid sounding engine. At least it had been for the first hundred miles. After that it had been a constant struggle to just get somewhere with a garage and a motel. That had been on a Saturday and they had gotten into town just at the garage was getting ready to close. The man had called in the parts order to the nearest supplier, who was closed on Sunday of course, and the part had come in this morning, Monday. The guy was pretty sure he would have it on tomorrow by noon, and they could get out of here.

Dean was more than ready to get back on the road. He was restless, and was not too happy with all this time to ponder the mess that had become his life, their lives, since Sam was right there with him up to his neck. At least that was one bright spot in his dark little world. Sam was no longer getting fitted for an extra-tall straight-jacket. His brother had been healed by Castiel and now the angel was suffering through the memories that had almost driven Sam into becoming a giant turnip. While he was of course happy to have Sam safe, he was conflicted about Castiel. He wouldn't trade Sam's sanity or life for anything, but he would have preferred that Castiel had not had to sacrifice himself. He was still pissed at the angel for his turn at god-hood, but hell, it wasn't like he could throw the first stone about bad decisions here. None of them could.

And then there was this thing with Bobby. The death of their near-father had been devastating for them both, almost as painful as losing John Winchester had been, though in a different way. Bobby had been the indulgent dad, the dad that was not afraid to show them how much he cared, and he had cared for them both, deeply. Dean was somewhat ashamed to admit that he was aware that he had been Bobby's favorite. Perhaps because he had been older when they first met, or maybe because Bobby had been the first one to treat him like a KID, instead of a full time Sammy-sitter, they had connected from the first and despite the years that had passed when Bobby and John were at daggers drawn, that hadn't changed. He sometimes thought that Bobby had thought that Dean had got the short end of the stick in the Winchester family. Dad was...well dad. He didn't really need anyone. He loved his sons, and would have done anything for them, Dean knew that, but he didn't NEED them. If Mary had been killed before the boys were born he still would have sought vengeance.

And then there was Sammy. Sammy had Dean, and that was that. As their dad had dove deeper and deeper into the hunting Dean had taken on more and more responsibility for Sam, and Sam had simply accepted that as the way it was supposed to be. He didn't know any different, so when Sam needed something he did not look to John. He looked to Dean, and Dean took care of it. Yes, some would say that Sam had been spoiled, though maybe not with material goods, but anything that Dean could do for Sam had gotten done. Until he had starting hunting himself, that had been his focus, his reason for being. Yes, looked at in a certain way you could say he had given up his childhood so that Sam could have his. Well, big whoop. He had known four years of his mother's love, and his father's; a father that Sam would never know. Dean had memories of the perfect family, Sam had nothing but what Dean gave him. In retrospect, Dean thought that he still came out ahead a little in that particular contest. Because as much as he loved Sammy, he knew that Sammy loved him back, and that was worth a hell of a lot. Yes, some, like that ditzy doctor in the nut house, might find their relationship a little co-dependant, but what the hell; their lives were anything but normal. And there wasn't anything wrong with a little co-dependant. They had survived some things that no one else would have because of it.

He figured that Bobby had felt a little sorry for him, what with having that responsibility and all and maybe had loved him just a little bit extra because of it. Like maybe since John wouldn't do it, Bobby would. He didn't make a big thing out of it, but it was there, and it had become more noticeable while soul-less Sammy had been here. Not that Dean had felt all that well disposed toward his brother at that time himself, though he had never stopped caring, but he had been hard to like at that point. Once Sam was re-souled the distance had remained. Sam had taken it as his due and said nothing, though Dean knew it had hurt him. Sam liked to be liked, and had always been pretty good at getting people to like him, a skill that Dean had only with women.

Now there was this whole haunting thing. Dean was teetering between two possibilities: One, Bobby really _was_ haunting them, and had been helping them out as best he could from the other side; or Two, he was going completely nuts. Unfortunately he was not prepared to discount either possibility. He also could not understand why Sam seemed so sure that Bobby wasn't haunting them. Yeah, he had tried the Ouija board and got no answer, but maybe Bobby had been gone right then. Who knew what kind of schedule the old man was on? It wasn't as if they hadn't seen stranger things. And they sure as hell had lived through some. Maybe he should have asked Cas before he went on his little mental trip. Guess he'd have to just keep an eye open for any more hints.

He watched one of the waitresses bring some drinks to one of the tables. Unfortunately she was somewhere in her mid fifties and kind of reminded Dean of a biker babe he had been forced to fight off in a Nevada bar one time. It hadn't been pretty. The only other waitress looked to be considerably younger, and prettier, but since she had spent most of the afternoon sucking face with the bartender when she wasn't dropping off drinks, he suspected she might not be available. He could stick around and see if the night shift was more appealing than the day shift, but he was frankly not feeling it.

Yes, he could do with some female company, but he just didn't feel like making the effort right now. This whole leviathan deal, losing Bobby, finding and losing Cas in the same day, was really making him a dull boy. He just didn't have the energy to spare. Right now all he wanted to do was go ferret Sam out of the library that he was sure he was in, find someplace that made a good pizza, and retreat to their motel room. Then after a night's sleep, he didn't even require that it was a _good_ one anymore, they would get out of this town and get on with the merry go round that was their lives right now.

He threw some money down to cover his tab and went out of the bar heading toward the library. Not only was his mojo gone, but he was reduced to _walking_. Only uncool people walked, geek people like Sam. Luckily the town was small, and he was soon at the library. He was about to go inside when he caught sight of a familiar figure sitting at a picnic table in the small park that was next to the river across the street from the library. He would recognize that figure anywhere. His brow wrinkled as he saw that someone was sitting across the table from Sam, and his brother was leaning forward and talking seriously to whoever it was. Dean recognized that posture. It was Sam at his most persuasive, in full argument. Whatever the topic was it was something Sam felt strongly about. Dean crossed the street and approached the table. By intent he had put a tree trunk between himself and the table, confident that neither person could see him as he came to within ten feet of the picnic table and could hear what Sam was saying, and see who he was saying it to. His eyes grew large and he leaned against the tree to listen some more. He found himself wanting to hear what his brother had to say.

Chapter 3

Sam almost fell off the bench in surprise as he looked at the young man sitting across from him. He had no trouble at all recognizing Jesse Turner, the boy that had been conceived in the womb of a possessed woman. He was something that scared even an angel like Castiel, who had tried to smite him. Jesse's power had proven too much for the angel however and he had saved himself, though Dean and Sam had been trying to help. While Cas had never said it exactly, Sam had gotten the distinct impression that there were few beings, in heaven or hell, that could match the boy's power, maybe only the archangels, the horsemen, and God himself. It was an incredible burden for a child to have to bear. Sam had always regretted deeply that they had practically forced Jesse to leave the only family that he had known. It had been the right thing, but he had learned long ago that it made little difference between right and wrong when it tore your heart out either way.

Now, Jesse sat across from him. The boy was now in his early teens, and had grown several inches since they had seen him last. He was tanned and his hair was lighter than it had been a sign that he had been spending a lot of time in the sun. Sam hoped that he had been able to find some peace, if not some happiness.

"Jesse!" He said and reached a hand out toward the boy. He hoped that the kid would take it. He and Dean had really tried to help. His hopes were fulfilled when the boy's smaller hand slipped into his and shook. "I didn't expect to see you again. We figured you would find someplace where you could fit in again and stay hidden." He was worried that some demon had hunted the boy down, or an angel, or worse, a leviathan.

"I had to come. I needed someone to talk to, someone who would understand." He had a slight Australian accent, and Sam realized that the boy had evidently taken himself just about as far away as he could get from his former life. He understood the urge.

"Understand what?"

"The power." Sam sat back on the bench, surprised.

"What do you mean? Have your powers changed? Have there been more incidents?" he asked.

"No, they haven't changed, I don't think, it's just that..." Jesse seemed unsure how to start. He gnawed on his lower lip for a moment. "When I left, I went to Australia. I always wanted to go, and since I had to leave I figured that would be the place. I...I knew it would be too lonely if I just stayed alone even if I could take care of myself, so I got myself into the system, told them that my parents had abandoned me after they moved there from the US and ran out of money. I met some really nice people, Tom and Bev, and they took me in with their own two kids. I'm in the middle, and I have an older brother and younger sister. Everything has been cool, but I have kept a low profile. I didn't use my powers for months after I got there. I made sure I didn't listen to rumors and legends. I was really careful. But recently I...I haven't been able to stop myself. I'll find myself thinking about something that I want, and there it is. Then last week I was really mad at this guy because he took the position I wanted on the soccer team, and he fell down the stairs that afternoon after we got out of tryouts. He busted his leg up so bad that he probably won't ever play soccer again. I'm...pretty sure it wasn't an accident. It isn't like before, when I didn't know that I was doing it at all, but now I just can't stop it."

Sam was glad that Jesse had managed to find a new family. He was impressed by the boy's resourcefulness in getting himself in the system and it sounded as if he really liked the family he was with. But he was troubled by what the boy was saying, and the fact that he was here at all.

"Jesse, why did you come to me?" he asked.

"Because you've been through it." Sam blinked. Did that mean that...?

"You...you know about what happened to me?" He asked with a stutter. How could the boy have found out?

"I was trying to figure out what to do. I remember what that demon that was in my mother was like, and I knew that if I asked a demon for advice I would probably regret it. I know that the angels hate me and would probably try to kill me rather than talk to me, so I was kinda stuck. Not like I could go to the guidance councilor and tell her I had a problem and expect her to fix me, and if I told Bev or Tom they would think I was nuts. So I started looking for someone that might know about these things, asking some questions, some demons and some angels and other things. I got a lot of different stories, and a lot of B.S. But I think I put it all together. You and some other people were given demon powers like what I have, but not as much. You let Lucifer out of hell and he wanted to use your body like that demon used my mother. That's why all that weird weather stuff was going on and why there were more demons and angels around. Then you did something that blew everyone's mind, you said 'yes' to Lucifer and you took him back to the cage. Everyone thought that you were going to be stuck there like forever, but then you came back again and now you're after the things..."

"They're called leviathan. They are from purgatory."

"Hmm...I had to kill one. It wasn't easy."

"You...you killed a leviathan? How?" The boy frowned.

"I'm not really sure. It kept coming back, again and again, every time I thought I killed it. I think I finally just blew it apart into pieces so small that it couldn't put itself back together." It was said so casually that Sam almost lost his breath. To have so much power in the hands of a child, it was mind boggling. He leaned forward, over the table, using his long torso to bring himself as close to the boy as he could and made eye contact with the boy.

"Jesse, you have got to listen to me _very_ carefully. I am not going to bullshit you like the demons would and I definitely am not going to try to kill you like the angels. I hope you know that Dean and I never wanted to hurt you." Jesse nodded. Sam continued.

"When I was a baby, Azazel, one of the most powerful demons in hell, bled into my mouth, making me one of his 'chosen'. He did the same to several other kids my same age. When I turned twenty two I started having visions. I would see people in trouble before it happened. Usually it was because one of the other chosen children were doing something to hurt people, or Azazel was 'choosing' another child. Some of the others were like me, they had visions, some could make people do things, anything they wanted just by telling them to do it, another had super strength, and one girl; she could kill someone with just a touch of skin to skin contact. Azazel pitted us against each other, trying to find out who was the best of the best, and I...won. It cost me my life and Dean his soul, and almost the entire world." Sam had to stop as the emotions almost became too much, but he did not break eye contact with the boy.

"Dean...Dean sold his soul to bring me back, and that is what they wanted. They needed him in Hell to break the first seal and they needed me to be...alone. Our dad was gone and Dean was gone and I... did not handle that very well. I got involved with a demon; one that I convinced myself was trying to help me. Before Dean...died I wasn't actively using my powers. They simply happened, kind of like yours were. They helped us save some people, but they didn't seem to be worth much else. They didn't help me save Dean. After...after Dean went to hell I just...fell apart. And Ruby, the demon, was there to take advantage of that. She told me I could use my power to get Dean out of hell. That I had to use it, hone it. I started..."He broke off with a humorless laugh and a shake of the head.

"It sounds so stupid now, looking back. They say hindsight is 20/20, and they are so right. I started drinking Ruby's blood. Her demon blood boosted my power and I could exorcise demons from their hosts with my mind. I tried to tell myself that it was okay, that I was doing it to save Dean, to save the possessed people, to get revenge on Lilith, the demon that killed Dean. But I know now that a good portion of it was the power. I could feel it growing in me and it was like a drug. The more I did the more I wanted to do. When Dean came back from hell I was so far gone...I didn't listen to anything he said. I just kept doing what I thought was best and I let Lucifer out of his cage. I brought on the apocalypse, Jesse, ME. And in that moment, standing there watching as Lucifer climbed up out of the pit, I realized it was all on me, that I had done that. In my pride and anger and stubbornness, I had done it." he stopped for a moment, and took a deep breath.

"Turns out that Dean and I had been scripted for the staring rolls in the apocalypse since somewhere around Cain and Able's time. Lucifer and Michael were meaning to slip into us like some cheap suits of armor and have the battle to end all battles. In the end the only way for me to make up for what I had done was to make sure that Lucifer went back to the pit, and the fact that I had to go with him in order to make that happen, it was nothing. I would have done anything, _anything_, to make sure he went back. I was prepared for an eternity of suffering, but in a moment of grace that I in no way deserved I was delivered from the cage. I came back with no soul, Jesse. I was like...well Dean called me Robo-Sam. I was on auto pilot until Dean got Death to put my soul back in. That led to other problems, like with the memories of what happened in hell. I was falling apart until Castiel, the angel that tried to kill you, he sort of redirected those memories to himself; another touch of unearned grace." He stopped again. He thought about all things he hadn't mentioned. The plans that Azazel had had; the friends, the family, that had died; the whole thing with the Mother-of-all; the opening of purgatory and the release of the leviathan. He had to drag his mind away from that now though, because this wasn't about him, this was about Jesse.

"I can't look back and say that if I had done this or not done that then all of what I have told you would not have happened. It is possible that no matter what I did that Lucifer would have ended up wearing me to the prom, and maybe Dean would have ended up saying yes to Michael and it all would have ended. But there is the possibility that if I had turned my back on Ruby, on my powers, that maybe, just _maybe_, it all wouldn't have happened. I've thought about it a lot. Up until Dean went to hell, it was all _them_. It was Azazel manipulating us from down here and I think some of the angels manipulating things from up there to get what they wanted. But from then on, Jesse, it was **me**."

"But you weren't evil." Jesse said.

"I'd like to think so. But the power came from something evil, and it was boosted by something evil, and in the end what I _used_ it for let the ultimate evil loose. I took something that by itself was neither good nor evil, and I allowed it to be turned to evil use."

"But...that angel, Castiel, he said I was bad. He...thought I was the antichrist." Sam nodded. He remembered Castiel's zeal about killing Jesse.

"I know. But Jesse, I want you to listen to me very carefully. I know what the source of your power is. I know that it is possible that your powers could be stronger than almost anything else in existence. That is an _incredible_ burden, one that I would not wish on anyone, much less a young man like you. Far wiser people than you, than me, have tried and failed to deal with something like that."

"Gee, way to build it up." Jesse said sullenly. Sam smiled at him, a little sadly.

"I'm sorry that I can't be all sweetness and light. That I can't just say 'do this' and solve your problem, but Jesse, no one that I know of has ever _had_ your problem. But I can offer you some advice from the perspective that I have gotten over the last four years. Do you want to hear it?" The boy nodded.

"First off, you have to stop thinking about what Castiel said about you. Hell, he called me an 'abomination' to my face. No matter where you came from, no matter what _anyone_ thinks about where you came from, what you are is up to _you_. You are partially human, and that means that you have free will, and Dean and I have found out that while it can be a bitch, sometimes free will is all you have. I have thought about this a lot Jesse, and everything that I have seen points to a couple of facts. Demons are evil because that is what they chose to be a long time ago, and they will never change, no matter how much they claim they want to. Angels are, well, they aren't all good, but they are what they were created to be. They are reasoning beings, they can reason their way into any action being right, even bringing on the apocalypse and they can make mistakes. But we are different. We have the choice of being mostly one or the other. No human is all good or all bad. It's that mix that determines just what kind of person we are."

"So you think that I can be good, even though I'm...well even though I am what I am?"

"That's just it Jesse. You are one of a kind, or at least one of a very few. That's what I was saying about not listening to what people tell you about what you have to be. You can choose what you want. Think about what you have already done. You left the only home that you had ever known, the only family that you ever had, because it was what was right for _them_. You protected them, by hurting yourself. That is not the action of an evil being. You made a choice, a choice to do something good. That says to me that you can do what you want. Now that I think about it, I think that you may have been a part of everything that went on with the apocalypse too."

"What?"

"In many of the Apocrypha the Antichrist is part of the Apocalypse. He's sort of the advance man for Satan. Powerful, but not quite as powerful as Lucifer himself. Your powers kicked in at about the time Lucifer was turned loose, as if you were being readied to help him out. But now that the apocalypse has been averted, you don't have any role to play anymore. Lucifer can't be free again for a long, long time, at least not in our lifetimes, I hope, and so they've ignored you. Otherwise I am sure both the angels and demons would have been looking for you more actively."

"Gee, that's comforting, but why are my powers doing what they are if it's all over?"

"I think that there is a simple explanation for that. You're what, thirteen now?" The boy nodded.

"When I turned thirteen there wasn't a day that went by that I didn't fight with my dad except when he was gone on a hunt. It was like someone flipped a switch and I couldn't get along with him for anything. If he said something was black I said it was white. If he said it was hot I said it was cold. Poor Dean, he was stuck in the middle between me and dad, and neither of us was willing to give an inch. I blamed it on the hunting. I wanted some pipe-dream of normal and that was something that was never going to happen while dad hunted. Dad wanted to keep us safe and he wanted to save people, and he was not going to change to make me happy, as much as he may have wanted to. It was a decade or more before I realized that he already knew what I had in my veins, and he was trying his best to balance keeping me safe with doing what was right, that he loved me and he was doing the best that he could. I guess what I am trying to say is that adolescence is...a pain in the ass." he shared a grin with Jesse.

"Everything is changing for you right now. Your body is changing, your emotions are changing, and even your brain chemistry is changing. All of that can't help but mess with your powers. They are an intrinsic part of you, like your hair color or the color of your eyes, as your hormones surge you are probably going to have a little bit of trouble keeping your balance. Right about now, using your powers is going to be easy. You get what you want when you want it, and that is one less problem when it seems like _everything_ is a problem. Most of us just pretty much grit our teeth and live through it. I grew my hair out and bitched at my dad for five years before I left for college. Other guys get their head shaved and get an eyebrow piercing or a tattoo. They hang out with some gang or start chasing girls like there's no tomorrow. But you Jesse, you don't have that option. For you..."Sam stopped and laughed. Jesse looked at him with a puzzled look. Sam shook his head.

"I should have known it would happen. Dean would be laughing his ass off about now. I'm sorry, but it's time for the gratuitous Spiderman reference. 'With great power comes great responsibility.' You have great power. You have the power of life and death over almost everything. You can not afford to just _survive_ the teen years. You have to be aware of what you are doing all the time. That is the price you have to pay for what you are. You have to make the conscious choice to control your power."

"Control it? You mean don't use it at all?" the boy sounded almost disappointed, and Sam could not really blame him. What child would not want to be able to do anything he wanted? He shook his head.

"I think that to not use it at all would be to deny what you are. You just need to be aware of what you do with it. Think about the things that you told me that happened. Obviously the 'accident' is a bad use of your powers. You hurt someone for, let's face it, a really petty reason. On the other hand, when you destroyed the demon that was possessing your real mother, you were using your powers for a good purpose. Now, think about the things that you conjured up, do you know where they came from?" Jesse shook his head but then shrugged.

"One was a doll that my younger sister saw in the window of a shop. It was really expensive cause it talked and everything. Tom and Bev, they aren't poor, but they don't have a lot extra to spend on toys. I heard Bev talking about getting it for her birthday in a few months. But it showed up in my room when we got home that day. I didn't let anyone see it yet. I think…I think I might have just taken it from the shop. I went back the next day and it wasn't in the window anymore. I asked about it in the shop and they didn't know what I was talking about, like it had never been there. In a way I guess I stole it and covered my tracks by making them forget it was ever there." Sam could see that the boy was seriously considering the impact of what he had unknowingly done. He could tell that Jesse desperately wanted to be good, but was afraid that because of what he had been told by his "parent' and Castiel that he didn't have a choice.

"Jesse, do you love the family that you are with now?" The boy was silent for a moment then nodded his head. "Would you want anyone to hurt them?" The boy shook his head. "What if your older brother went into your room and took something of yours? Something you really liked and he broke it by accident? Would you hurt him?"

"No, it was an accident. I might punch him or something, in the arm…that isn't bad is it?" Sam laughed.

"When I was nine I took Dean's walkman, that's a sort of music player like an mp3" He had to explain when Jesse wrinkled his brow in confusion. God that made him feel suddenly very old. "He was gone with dad on one of his first hunts and I was lonely and bored and I wasn't even supposed to be outside, but I went out anyway. I think it made me feel like he was still there with me so I took it outside with me to listen to a tape while I was playing. It was just after a big rainstorm and there were puddles all over and I was jumping in them, you know just because they were there and there wasn't really anything else to do since I was at this run down motel in the middle of nowhere and there weren't any other kids around. As you can probably guess I dropped it in a puddle. It fried the whole thing and ruined the tape on top of it, one of Dean's favorites of course. I knew that I was dead as soon as he found out. I didn't know what to do. I didn't have any money to replace it, so I threw it in the dumpster. Once Dad and Dean got back a day later he started looking for it and when he couldn't find it he knew I had to have taken it. He sat on me and gave me nuggies until I admitted what had happened. Then he threw me in the dumpster and made me dig it out of all the trash. I smelled like…well you know what, for a week after that. Dad made me keep the back window down till it wore off, and he made me save money to buy Dean a new walkman and tape. So, no it isn't bad when you want to punch your brother in the arm, as long as you don't really hurt him. That's normal, it's part of what being a brother is all about. The other stuff isn't normal. You have to learn to make the distinction and you have to control what you do."

"But I didn't mean to take the doll, and I didn't mean to hurt that guy."

"Not consciously, but subconsciously, you did. Just like before, with the urban legends. You didn't think about it then either, but it happened. Unfortunately you are going to have to think about a lot of things that the rest of us take for granted, that we just do on auto-pilot. It's like when we're driving along and some guy blows by us and nearly forces us off the road. Dean will cuss him out and hope he wraps his ass around a tree. Or I get into an argument with Dean and he's being a complete ass about something simply because he can and because he knows it pisses me off, and I tell him to take a flying leap. Neither of those things is actually going to happen just because we said it or thought it. You are not going to have that luxury, at least not until you can get a handle on your powers well enough that you control them and they don't control you."

"But how do I stop a thing happening when I don't even know it can. I didn't think about hurting that kid, I didn't!"

"No, you probably didn't. But you resented him. You said you were angry. You felt bad about losing out and you probably thought about what might happen if something should happen to the other guy. It is a natural response to missing out on something you wanted a lot. With your power, and the added hormone kick, you just had to give that thought a little direction, and it took the next step."

"So what does that mean? What do I do?"

"You are going to have to be aware of your every thought. And I know that that sounds like an overwhelming task, and it is to some degree. And there is the very real possibility that the best that you are going to be able to hope for is to limit the effect to things that don't really matter, like the doll. You have to become an adult a lot sooner than everyone else. It's not fair, and I am very, very sorry that I do not have another solution for you."

"But you got rid of your power." Jesse protested.

"I was the vessel for fallen arch-angel and I spent just over a hundred years subjective time in hell. That burned every last bit of the demon blood out of me, and resulted in me being without a soul for most of a year, and Jesse that is not something that you ever want to even think about doing. You have to be what you are and make a decision about what you want to become. It is going to be incredibly hard. I can't sugar coat it for you. I wish I could."

"It's like the universe is just setting me up to fail, like it's out to make me go evil just because it's so hard to be good! That isn't fair! Why can't it be the other way around?" The boy was practically crying in his fear at what he might become without wanting to.

"I don't know, Jesse. I wish I had an answer for you. You have gotten the short end of the stick from the universe, god, whatever is responsible for all of this, and like I said it isn't fair. I can say that I believe that you want to be good. I think that you want to help people and that you can. Maybe that is the way that you can get a handle on your powers, and show whatever it is that puts us in these conundrums of life that you will not just lay down and take it. That you won't take the easy way out. That you are going to fight to be what you want to be and not what someone else ordained you should be, no matter how superior they or it may have thought they were when they did it. No, you need to …." Sam sat up, as his mind whirled with possibilities, and he saw Jesse doing the same across from him, catching his excitement. He thought he might be on to something here.

"Use your powers to help people. You don't have to be obvious about it. Be subtle but be an _active_ power for good. Exercise your power by using it for the things that will empower and enrich those around you. You said that you had been not been using your powers for a long time, making sure that they didn't leak out like before, right?" Jesse nodded. "I think that if you use it actively it won't need to leak out in your subconscious. It doesn't have to be big things. You don't have to save the Barrier Reef, or bring the Kiwi back from the edge of extinction, but you can help with little things. You don't want to call attention to yourself or those around you by making some big deal out of things, there are too many things out there, both human and supernatural, that will try to take advantage of that, but you are a smart kid, and it sounds like you have a good family. Let them guide you, even if you can't share what you can do with them, they can help you understand what is right and wrong. But Jesse," He leaned forward again once again meeting the boy's eyes.

"You be very careful about what you do, even if you think what you are doing is right. DO NOT do what I did. LISTEN to those around you that have your best interest at heart and that love you, LISTEN to their advice. THINK about everything that you do that impacts someone else BEFORE you do it. Be careful who you trust, and don't _ever_ let your pride take you someplace that you do not want to be. It is going to be really easy to become very impressed with yourself, and what you can do, and you will think that you can't make any mistakes, but you will be _wrong_. If you learn anything from what happened to me that is the lesson that you need to learn. No matter what you think you can do, no matter what your intentions may have been, no matter how smart you think you are, YOU CAN BE WRONG. Always, _always_ remember that."

"You…you think that can work? That I can use it a little and maybe keep it from doing things on its own?"

"It's the best I got, Jesse. Evidence in the past suggests that if you are cognizant of it, the power only does what you want it to do. I think that the combination of your hitting puberty and trying to suppress your powers combined to make it do what you've described. I think that if you are very careful, if you are very _mature_, and that you use it _thoughtfully_, that you will ultimately come out the other side in control of it instead of it being in control of you. I really do think that it is up to you how this whole thing comes out, and ONLY you."

"Gosh no pressure there." The boy said with a shaky laugh. Sam gave him a sad smile and a shrug. He really had nothing more to add. It was up to Jesse what he would do now. He watched the boy stare at the table as he thought about what Sam had said. His hands were rubbing at the smooth wood as he thought taking comfort in the repetitive motion. Finally he nodded and looked up at Sam.

"I'll try it. My foster family, they really are good people, and I think that they really care about me. I do trust them. I DO want to be good. I promise to really think about what I do, but sometimes I might need to ask some questions that I can't ask my family would you mind…"

"You can always come to me, Jesse, anywhere, anytime. And if I don't have an answer for you, Dean might. He's always been there for me, and while I haven't always listened, to my detriment, I trust him, and so can you. I know that he would want to help you. Of course you may want to just call or knock on the door instead of just popping in. We tend to be a little gun shy about that you know." He hastily wrote down their phone numbers on a piece of paper from his pack and slid it across to the boy.

"I can understand that. You guys are kinda hard to find. It took me almost a week of looking and I kinda just got lucky and found you out here."

"Yeah, well we aren't exactly the safest people to know. Though you probably have less to worry about than our other friends."

"You mean those Leviathan things?"

"Them, and the angels, and the demons, and most supernatural things that know that we hunt them."

"I guess I never really thought about that." Jesse said with a thoughtful look. "I guess that doing the right thing is not always the easiest thing to do."

"No, not always. Not even most of the time it seems." It was a jaded outlook to offer a boy so young, but Sam was not going to lie to him.

"Why do you do it then? Is it really worth it?"

"I have to think it is. Sometimes that is all that Dean and I have, that thought that it _is_ worth it. Maybe that is what faith is all about, not so much believing in God, but in believing that doing good just for the sake of it _being_ good is worth it. I don't know. I may never know. I just know that it is what I have to do, what Dean and I have to do. Just like you have to do what you believe to be right for you."

"Back to that again."

"Yeah, responsibility is nasty that way, it never really goes away."

"Great. Spiderman to the rescue huh?"

"Yeah. Peter Parker, eat your heart out."

Jesse looked around the park and then back at Sam. The man was glad to see that some of the lines of concern that had been on the young face seemed to have eased. There also seemed to be a glint of something like hope in the boy's eyes. Sam really hoped that the boy could do it. That he could beat the system.

"I have to go. I'm supposed to be home from school soon, and I don't like to make Bev worry."

"Keep me posted, okay."

"Okay." Jesse said with a grin, and then he was gone. Sam blinked at the sudden emptiness. He looked around to make sure that no one had noticed the boy suddenly disappearing, but the park seemed to be empty. Well, except for his big brother trying to make himself part of the landscape behind the tree.

"Dean, you can come out from behind the tree now." He had noticed his brother earlier when he had shown up, but he had not wanted to distract Jesse from his purpose. The boy obviously had been nervous enough, and he probably wasn't quite ready for the full on Sam and Dean show. His brother shuffled out from behind the elm with a smirk on his face.

Chapter 4-

Dean listened to what his brother was saying, and he felt his heart twist a little. He had known that Sam was still living with the guilt of starting the apocalypse, a guilt that wasn't his alone since Dean had broken the first seal, or that he still blamed himself for all the things that had gone wrong since then, like ripples caused by the original rock in the pond. But he hadn't really realized that his brother still felt that he deserved the time he had spent in hell. He could hear it in Sam's voice as he told the boy about what had happened to them over the last several years. He slumped a little against the tree as he listened to the regret in Sam's voice and he heard the soul-deep tiredness in his little brother's words that echoed that in his own. They really were a pair.

He leaned his head back against the trunk of the tree and listened as Sam compressed thirty years of well…hell into a few words. It didn't seem like it should be possible, but then Dean was well aware that he and his brother, hell their whole family, were not so important in the universe as a whole. That was a fact that had been made clear to them time and again. As his eyes searched the blue sky through the nearly bare limbs he tried to put some perspective to it all, and as usual failed. It was just too much. How the hell were they supposed to just keep doing his and go on?

He frowned as he heard Sam say that he wasn't sure that all of this would have been averted no matter what they did. He didn't want to think that all of this was set in stone, hadn't they proven that they could change things? Of course, as Sam would have pointed out, maybe they were meant to avert the apocalypse, just as they had. It was all too complicated for him, Free will vs. pre-destiny. It was all a pain in the ass.

He gave a half smile as he remembered Castiel referring to Sam as an abomination, in that casual offhanded tone like you might mention that someone was Canadian, or something like that. His smile faded as he listened to his brother talk about his teenage years and his memory went back to all the fights he had been witness to between his brother and father. It had been a rocky time, and he had hated being stuck between the only two things in the world that he truly loved as they tore each other apart. He was glad to hear though that Sam had come to some sort of understanding of John Winchester in the end. It kind of made up for some of the anger he had felt at his brother for the 'lost years" while he was gone away to college. That and the distance he had felt when their father had died. He had known that Sam had loved John, but he had never really been sure up until now that he really understood their father. Maybe he had done his brother more of a disservice than he thought.

He did smirk as Sam threw in the Spiderman quote, but he had to admit it was appropriate to the subject. He was somewhat glad that he hadn't just barged in when he recognized Jesse sitting at the table with his brother. He was learning a few things. He nodded unconsciously as Sam tried to offer what advice he could to the boy, and Dean didn't envy him the task. He smiled fondly as he remembered that time long ago when Sam had ruined his walkman. He had been hot then, he remember John having to stop him from causing any real damage, and he also remembered attacking his brother's hair, always a sensitive area. He smiled some more as he remembered tossing his still little brother into the dumpster, headfirst of course, and made him stay in there until he found the device. He had turned it into his first EMF meter, not that that fact had let his little brother off the hook for a new machine and a new AC/DC tape. It had taken Sam almost six months of collecting cans and bottles and taking what jobs he could find as they moved around to make enough money.

He wasn't sure that Sam's solution to the problem was going to work. After the experience with Sam's powers he was not quite ready to dive back into that 'use them if you got them' pool. But he could understand Sam's point about suppressing what was natural to the boy. He desperately hoped that Sam's solution would work for the kid, and that at some point in the next several years he and Sam would not have to figure out how to get to Australia to gank some out of control teenager that even the angels were scared of. You could take a boat there, right? Cause he sure as hell was not getting on a plane for no 20 hours or whatever it was. Not even if it meant the end of the world.

He listened as Sam said goodbye and offered their numbers. Great, just what he needed, a teenage being powerful enough to gank a leviathan calling him for advice on how to NOT go darkside. Thanks, Sam. He was so getting his brother for that. It was silent for several seconds, then his brother's voice spoke, a little louder than he had been.

"Dean, you can come out from behind the tree now." He admitted that he jumped a little as he was obviously busted, but as he shuffled out from behind the trunk he made sure he was smirking. Never let them see you sweat. Sam was still sitting at the table, but his head was turned to watch Dean.

"So now you're the Dear Abby for supernatural teenagers? You must be so proud." He snarked at his brother as he settled down across from him where Jesse had just been sitting. Sam's face scrunched up in his usual bitchface look that Dean realized had been missing the last several months. He guessed that having Lucifer homesteading in your head kinda outweighed the regular stuff. He was glad to see the return of something that was so essentially Sam.

"Cute, Dean."

"Yeah, well. I AM adorable. Maybe now that you're giving out advice you can talk to yourself about that envy. It's not pretty."

"It's not the only thing. And it's nice to know I'm not the only one that had the delusional thing going. I hate to break it to you but you are well past the 'adorable' stage and have been for a long time now. In fact I am pretty sure that you are approaching doddering."

"Four years Sam, you're only four years behind me. If I'm doddering then you ain't far behind." Sam's smile faded.

"I'm not sure if anything I said to him will help. I kept thinking that what if I had had someone like me to talk to when I was having all those things with my powers. Would I have even listened, or would I have blown it off and done the same things I did? I just don't know."

"I didn't hear it all, but what I did hear sounded pretty good to me. Of course I'm not a thirteen year old nearly omnipotent being that makes the angels all nervous and the demons envious." He shrugged. "Did you give him the best advice you had?" Sam nodded.

"Yeah, I did. Not that what I could do is a speck on what he can do, I was like a battery to his nuclear power plant. Did you hear him say he killed a leviathan? He blew it into so many bits it couldn't put itself back together." Dean huffed.

"Well, _there's_ a viable option for when we run out of cleaning fluid and a machete. We'll just turn up the de-materializer up to disperse and off we go, problem solved."

"We'll find something else, Dean. We always do."

"Yeah we do, but unfortunately it seems that for everything good we find we lose at least one better thing." Sam knew that he was thinking of Bobby and how they had lost him when they had gotten those coordinates, not that those had been really helpful so far. And when you thought about it, Sam's own demon banishing powers had only come at the cost of Dean's time in hell. He was prepared to miss out on those kinds of exchanges. He rubbed at his forehead and looked around at the park. It was later than he had thought, evidently his talk with Jesse had taken longer than he thought. The sun was heading toward the horizon and there was more activity in the streets as people were getting off work.

He looked back at Dean. The sun was hitting him from an angle now, and he could see the beginnings of crow's feet in the corners of Dean's eyes, and he suddenly remembered sitting on the another park bench many, many years before, in some no-name town while on some hunt or the other, staring at their father's face, and seeing the lines and grooves that had seemed to appear overnight on John's face, and the gray that had appeared in his hair. He felt that surge of something again and he couldn't hold it back.

"My god Dean, I looked at that kid, just now reaching 13, and I felt so freaking…old." Sam said dropping the banter and meeting Dean's eyes seriously. "It was like…I looked at him and I realized that I am almost 30, you're 34. Given the mortality rate for old hunters that means we're middle-aged. That's if we managed to survive the leviathan at all."

"Yeah, well. That's something that I try not to think about too much. Way I figure it, we've both already been dead twice at least; you three times and me a good two and three-quarters depending on how you count it. We've already messed up the curve, I say we hang on here until they have to send death himself down to drag our bony, old asses to wherever we end up next." Dean eyed his little brother. He really wasn't much for contemplating this particular part of their jobs, like he said, but maybe they needed to discuss this a little. He tapped at the table top with a fist and looked down, avoiding his brother's emo eyes. He wouldn't get it out if he was looking at him.

"I kinda figured….you know we've tried the going it alone thing, both ways. Me going, you staying and vice-versa, and I don't know about you but I have to say that it really didn't work out well for either of us any of the times we tried that." Sam huffed a laugh in agreement and Dean continued. "I figure that the next time, whenever that is, tomorrow, next week, next year, or hell, forty or fifty years from now, I say we go together." He did not raise his eyes as the silence after his words lengthened; instead he just stared at his fist, laying there on the table. Finally his brother's huge paw moved into his line of sight, and for a moment he feared there would be an epic chick flick moment involving hand holding in the park, but instead his brother's hand formed a fist as well and his knuckles bumped up against Dean's gently.

"Deal." He said simply and Dean looked up to meet the hazel eyes across from him. They were slightly moister than a man's eyes oughta be, but then this was Sam, and he was simply glad there had been no hand holding or hugging. He nodded once to the emotions that he saw in his brother's eyes and stood up.

"Alright! If your office hours are over Dr. Spock then I think we should go find the best pizza place in this burg before it closes down for the night, get us a six pack or two at the stop and rob and go watch that pay-per-view of Cowboys vs. Aliens. After that we get a good night's sleep and then blow this popsicle stand tomorrow morning." He started toward the road, still slightly miffed at the walking thing. In moments Sam was beside him, still putting his backpack on his back and slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder. As if by accident this movement resulted in them walking side by side with shoulders brushing as they moved. Dean smiled.

The End


End file.
